I had a dream about my favorite wooden roller coaster, "The Beast", which is at Kings Island.
Somehow, I was aware that I was dreaming, so I went along for the ride. The park was far larger than real life, and the rides were a mish-mash of other rides from other amusement parks, such as Cedar Point and Six Flags.
All the rides were operating on their own, and the entire park was devoid and empty of any other soul. I was the only one there, so I had the whole place to myself. Being an introvert, this was paradise to me, and I knew I wouldn't have to wait in lines. I was perfectly chill being alone with no companionship.
I first went on some steel rides. One of them was an altered version of "Magnum XL 200", which is a steel coaster at Cedar Point. This one had sentimental value to me, as it is the first large coaster I had ever been on as a kid, which was with my dad, who had bribed me with ice cream to get me brave enough to go on it.
After getting my adrenaline going, I took a break by stuffing my face with a funnel cake with blueberry topping.
Then, I went to the top of the Eiffel Tower replica, where I could see the whole park. It went on for miles, and then I spotted "The Beast", which towered over the treetops by hundreds of feet. To my dismay, I saw that the coaster appeared to be in a derelict state, it's wood dead and decaying.
Curious to see if I could ride it, I went back down the tower and made my way through the park to "The Beast". When I got to the entry, the sign said that it was open, and I could hear the clacking noises of a train leaving the station.
The line wound through a labyrinthine complex of wooden beams, and then I suddenly found myself at the end of a long and winding line of faceless people.
Is this where everyone had gone? I hadn't seen anyone else in the park, until now. The line moved rather quickly, and I grew anxious about getting on.
When I finally entered the station, I saw that there was a faceless crew of construction workers rapidly replacing rotting wood with fresh new wood. Sounds of saws and hammers rung in my ears as the ride operator excitedly announced that "The Beast" was being resurrected after many years of dormancy.
Finally, it was my turn to get on the train, and I chose the front. Anticipation built up as we ascended the first hill, and then flew down and through the forest, twisting and turning up and down hills. We rushed through tunnels, going in loops, and I felt free and wild in the woods. The ride was rough and rattly, but satisfying.
As the train came to a stop in the station, I noticed things had changed in the last few minutes. The station had already been renovated with new wood that had the pleasing scent of freshly cut pine.
I immediately got back in line to ride "The Beast" again. And then again. And again.
At one point as I sat in the coaster, my dad suddenly showed up next to me. Having died in 2018, I knew this was his ghost, although he looked like he was alive. He said nothing, remaining silent as we rode the ride. In life, he had enjoyed this ride. I remembered the last and final coaster he had ridden before he passed away - the Gatekeeper at Cedar Point. As the ride ended, I said, "I miss you, dad." And then he vanished.
I continued to keep riding "The Beast" for hours. Each time I got off the ride, more of it had been restored to a new state, each time being an improvement over the last, and the ride became smoother as it was improved upon. "The Beast" was coming back to life, resurrected, ready to rush and roar through the wild woods.
Then I woke up. THE END.